XXI Winter Olympics

My brother's Facebook status yesterday was:
"Watching the Olympics on TV while simultaneously watching the Olympics on the Internet. It's probably a good thing the Olympics are only two weeks."
This beautifully sums up the Kline-Woodman household's relationship to the Winter Olympics in Vancouver. With the exception of a lack of mention of excessive use of the DVR. We all re-learn the rules for sports we never follow, we groan appropriately at the wobbly landing on a triple lutz. We converse knowledgably about Evan Lysacek's victory over Evgeni Plushenko--his athleticism and artistry are superior, despite his lack of a quadruple jump. We compare twizzling between ice dancing pairs (some of it was truly spectacular). We think that Shaun White is a little arrogant in an interview where he characterized his technique as vastly superior to his peers--until we saw him. It may be arrogant, but it is also true. Wow, he really was leaps and bounds better than them.

What are our favorites? The less popular the sport, the more we seem to enjoy it. It is the learning of rules and then appreciating the event as a result that appeals to us, and the less we know about it to begin with, the more we appreciate acquiring knowledge about it. Biathalon is an example--we do not require the commentator to follow the action. When I commented that the American Tim Burke was in the medal hunt until the third shooting, the response was "Well, that is the first standing shoot." As opposed to "What is the Biathalon again?" Similarly popular is curling. When I commented on the Swede's overthinking their strategy in the US vs. Sweden match, to the point where they were in danger of not finishing their throws in the alloted 73 minutes, no one asked what I meant. Did we get it in the house, that is what they wanted to know. The love of obscurity abounds at my house this week.